Operation stink Bomb Chapter 2
The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife. Reese's heart pounded in his chest as he locked eyes with Lois, his frustration boiling over. He had had enough of the endless punishments, the constant disdain, and the feeling of being treated like garbage.
"Tell me, Mom," Reese demanded, his voice low but filled with intensity. "Tell me now or so help me, I will call in every Favor I know. I don't need to prove myself to you. I'm never going to change because I never needed to change to begin with. So just be straight with me and tell me how long I'm grounded for."
Lois's eyes widened in shock, her face turning an alarming shade of red. She opened her mouth to retort, but Reese cut her off.
"I will not be treated like garbage anymore," he continued, his voice rising. "And no, I will never apologize. I scrubbed those stupid floors more than anyone here combined, so I would appreciate a little honesty. Remember, I've already done two months of grounding, and I served six months in juvie. I'm already miserable from all the programs and punishments."
Reese's glare was unwavering, his eyes burning with a mixture of anger and defiance. He had reached his breaking point, and he wasn't backing down.
The room fell silent, the weight of Reese's words hanging in the air. Hal looked at Lois, his expression a mix of concern and uncertainty. Malcolm and Dewey exchanged nervous glances, unsure of what to do or say.
Lois's face contorted with rage, but there was a flicker of something else—perhaps a hint of realization. She took a deep breath, her voice trembling with barely contained fury.
"Fine," she spat, her eyes narrowing. "You want honesty? You're grounded for another six months. And if you step out of line even once, that time will be extended. You think you're miserable now? You haven't seen anything yet."
Reese's jaw clenched, but he said nothing. He had expected a harsh response, but at least now he had a definitive answer. He turned and walked away from the table, his heart pounding with a mix of anger and relief. He had stood up for himself, and that was a victory.
As he climbed the stairs to his room, he couldn't help but feel a sense of determination. He had a future to look forward to, and no amount of grounding could take that away from him. He would endure, and he would rise above it all.
Reese paused at the bottom of the stairs, turning back to face his mother. His voice was calmer now, but still filled with a quiet determination. "Can I please just be grounded until the end of the school year? That's still three months away. Plus, the school will probably keep punishing me until the end of the school year anyway. And no, I don't need to prove myself. I've already done that. I had to clean floors for the school for months, which I'm sure they just did to get free Labor out of me."
Lois's eyes narrowed; her lips pressed into a thin line. She seemed to be weighing her options, her anger battling with a reluctant sense of fairness. The room was silent, all eyes on her as they waited for her response.
"Three months," Lois repeated slowly, her voice laced with scepticism. "You think that's enough for what you've done?"
Reese met her gaze steadily. "Yes, I do. I've paid my dues, Mom. Six months in juvie, two months of grounding, and countless hours of scrubbing floors. I've learned my lesson. I'm asking for a chance to move forward."
Hal, sensing an opportunity to defuse the situation, spoke up. "Lois, maybe he's right. He's been working hard and staying out of trouble. Maybe it's time to give him a break."
Lois shot Hal a sharp look, but there was a flicker of consideration in her eyes. She took a deep breath, her shoulders relaxing slightly. "Fine," she said, her voice grudging. "You're grounded until the end of the school year. But if you step out of line even once, that time will be extended. Do you understand?"
Reese nodded, relief washing over him. "Thank you, Mom."
Lois's expression softened ever so slightly, but her eyes remained stern. "Don't make me regret this, Reese."
"I won't," Reese replied, his voice firm. "I promise."
The tension in the room eased, and Reese turned to head back upstairs. He felt a sense of victory, albeit a small one. He had managed to negotiate a fairer punishment, and now he had a clear timeline to work towards.
As he reached his room, he couldn't help but smile. He had a future to look forward to, and he was determined to make the most of it. He sat down at his desk, pulling out his sketchbook and pencils. It was time to start working on a new collection of dresses to send to Robert. He would use his creativity and passion to cope with his situation and keep moving forward.
Reese walked into Principal Herkabe's office with a newfound sense of determination. The principal looked up from his desk, his expression a mix of curiosity and irritation. "Reese Wilkinson. What brings you here?" he asked, his tone sharp.
Reese took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he was about to do. "I know you wanted to see me, sir," he began, his voice steady. "And no, I'm not cleaning floors for you any longer. Those days are over, and most of the punishments will cease. I will still do a detention once a day for 30 minutes until the end of the school year, so my mother doesn't get suspicious."
Principal Herkabe's eyes narrowed, but before he could respond, Reese continued. "And before you yell, I know about the time your secretary blew you in the car. It would be a shame if your wife were to find out."
The principal's face turned an alarming shade of red, his eyes widening in shock. "What did you just say?" he hissed, his voice barely above a whisper.
Reese leaned in; his gaze unwavering. "You heard me. Here's what's going to happen: the free Labor, the community service, the scrubbing the floors—all of it stops. And I want that stain on my permanent record gone."
Principal Herkabe's hands trembled as he clenched his fists, his face contorted with rage. "You little—"
Reese cut him off, his voice cold and firm. "This isn't a negotiation, sir. You know I have the information, and you know what will happen if it gets out. So, do we have a deal?"
The principal's eyes darted around the room, as if searching for a way out. Finally, he let out a shaky breath and nodded, his voice barely audible. "Fine. You win, Reese. But if you step out of line even once, I will make sure you regret it."
Reese nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "Understood, sir. I'll see you in detention."
As Reese walked out of the office, he felt a surge of triumph. He had taken control of his situation, and now he had the freedom to focus on his future. He knew there would still be challenges ahead, but for the first time, he felt like he had a fighting chance.
After dinner, Reese approached Lois with a letter in his hand. The atmosphere at the table was still tense from the previous night's confrontation, but Reese felt a newfound sense of determination. He handed the letter to Lois, his expression serious.
"Mom, I need you to read this," he said quietly. Lois's eyes narrowed as she took the letter, her suspicion evident. She unfolded it and began to read, her face paling as she absorbed the contents.
Mom,
I have evidence that Principal Herkabe's secretary was blowing him in his car. I even saw it myself and had a nice little chat with him today. All punishments are gone. I asked to still do a 30-minute detention every day for the rest of the school year, so people don't get suspicious.
I'm telling you this to let you know one thing: I am willing to fight for my future. And before you yell and scream, think about this: I am standing up for myself and telling you the truth. I am only asking that you tell no one else. Hal, Malcolm, and Dewey aren't to be told.
Reese
Lois's hands trembled as she finished reading the letter. She looked up at Reese, her eyes filled with a mix of shock, anger, and something else—perhaps a begrudging respect.
"Reese," she began, her voice shaking, "do you have any idea what you've done?"
Reese nodded, his gaze unwavering. "Yes, Mom. I know exactly what I've done. I'm standing up for myself. I'm fighting for my future. And I'm telling you the truth because I want you to understand that I'm serious about changing my life."
Lois's eyes narrowed further, but she didn't yell. Instead, she took a deep breath, her mind racing. "And you expect me to keep this a secret? From your father, Malcolm, and Dewey?"
"Yes," Reese replied firmly. "This is between you and me. I'm not asking for your approval, just you're understanding. I need to know that you won't undermine me while I'm trying to turn my life around."
Lois stared at him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Finally, she nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. "Fine. But know this, Reese: if you ever pull a stunt like this again, there will be consequences. Do you understand?"
Reese nodded, relief washing over him. "I understand, Mom. Thank you."
Lois folded the letter and tucked it into her pocket, her eyes still locked on Reese. "Go to your room. And don't think this means you're off the hook completely. We'll talk more about this later."
Reese nodded and turned to leave, his heart pounding. He had taken a significant risk, but it had paid off. He had stood up for himself and secured a measure of freedom. As he climbed the stairs to his room, he felt a sense of triumph and determination. He was on the right path, and he wasn't going to let anything, or anyone stand in his way.
The next day, the tension in the house was palpable. Lois had barely spoken a word since reading Reese's letter the night before. Reese knew a confrontation was inevitable, and he was ready for it. He had spent the night compiling a dossier, determined to show his mother that his fight wasn't over.
After dinner, Reese approached Lois in the living room, a thick folder in his hand. "Mom, we need to talk," he said, his voice steady.
Lois looked up from her book, her eyes narrowing. "What is it now, Reese?"
Reese took a deep breath and handed her the dossier. "You may be angry, but I will never apologize for exposing the rot and corruption. Operation Stink Bomb may be over, but Operation Expose and Destroy is a go."
Lois's hands trembled as she opened the folder, her eyes scanning the contents. The first document was evidence of a teacher being a paedophile, complete with disturbing messages and photos. The second was proof of a teacher having an affair, including hotel receipts and incriminating emails. The third showed teachers taking bribes to give favourable grades, with bank statements and recorded conversations. The final piece was a picture of a teacher grabbing Reese's butt and leering at him, followed by another of her trying to kiss him, her smirk unmistakable.
Lois's face turned an alarming shade of red as she flipped through the pages. "Reese, what is this?" she demanded, her voice shaking with a mix of anger and disbelief.
Reese met her gaze, his expression resolute. "It's the truth, Mom. This is what's happening at my school. You may be angry, but I will never stop exposing the rot and corruption. I will never stop."
Lois's eyes flashed with a mixture of rage and something else—perhaps a hint of reluctant admiration. "And what do you expect me to do with this?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"I expect you to understand why I'm doing this," Reese replied. "I'm not just causing trouble for the sake of it. I'm fighting for what's right. And I need you to support me, or at the very least, not stand in my way."
Lois closed the folder, her hands trembling. She took a deep breath, her eyes locking onto Reese's. "You think you're some kind of hero, don't you? Exposing all this corruption. But do you realize the danger you're putting yourself in? The consequences?"
"I do," Reese said firmly. "But I can't just stand by and do nothing. I have to fight for what's right, no matter the cost."
Lois stared at him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Finally, she nodded, her voice softening. "Fine. But be careful, Reese. This is dangerous territory you're treading on. And if you get in over your head, don't expect me to bail you out."
Reese nodded, relief washing over him. "I understand, Mom. Thank you."
As he turned to leave, he felt a sense of triumph and determination. He had stood up for himself and his principles, and he wasn't going to let anything, or anyone stand in his way
A month had passed, and the tension in the house had only grown thicker. Lois watched Reese like a hawk, her suspicion and concern evident in every glance. She was still coming to grips with the revelations in the dossier Reese had handed her, and it was clear that she was struggling to reconcile her anger with a reluctant respect for his tenacity.
Today was Malcolm's birthday, and the house was filled with the sounds of celebration. Lois had gone all out, baking a cake and showering Malcolm with attention and praise. Reese, on the other hand, was completely ignored, as if he were invisible. It was a familiar feeling, but one that stung, nonetheless.
As the party went on, one of Malcolm's friends—a girl with a cruel smirk—approached Reese. "Hey, isn't it cute how you're just standing there like a lost puppy?" she sneered, her voice dripping with mockery.
Reese didn't even dignify her with a response. He simply turned and walked away, heading up to his room. The girl's laughter followed him, but he ignored it, his mind focused on maintaining his composure.
Moments later, Lois stormed into his room, her eyes blazing with suspicion. "Reese, what are you doing up here? Why aren't you at the party?"
Reese looked up from his sketchbook, his expression calm but weary. "Mother, please leave me alone. I don't need to be yelled at today. I'm still serving my grounding, remember? Why don't you go pick dorm rooms for Malcolm or whatever those dorks do?"
Lois's eyes narrowed; her anger barely contained. "What are you hiding, Reese? Why are you up here instead of celebrating your brother's birthday?"
Reese sighed, closing his sketchbook and setting it aside. "I'm not hiding anything, Mom. I just want some quiet. Is that too much to ask?"
Lois took a step closer, her eyes scanning the room as if searching for something incriminating. "You're up to something. I know it."
Reese met her gaze, his voice steady. "I'm not up to anything. I'm just trying to get through the day without causing any more trouble. Can you please just give me some space?"
For a moment, it looked like Lois might explode, but then she took a deep breath, her shoulders relaxing ever so slightly. "Fine. But don't think for a second that I'm not watching you."
Reese nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. "I know, Mom. I know."
As Lois turned and left the room, Reese let out a sigh of relief. He had managed to defuse the situation, at least for now. He picked up his sketchbook again, his mind already drifting back to his designs. His dress-making hobby was his escape, his way of coping with the chaos around him. And for now, it was a secret he intended to keep.
Malcolm had always been the golden child, the one who could do no wrong in the eyes of their parents. But he wasn't blind to the tension that had been brewing in the house since Reese's return from juvenile detention. He saw an opportunity to use Reese's isolation to his advantage and further cement his own status as the favoured son.
One evening, after the remnants of Malcolm's birthday party had been cleaned up, Malcolm approached Lois in the kitchen. She was washing dishes, her face lined with stress and exhaustion.
"Mom," Malcolm began, his voice soft and concerned, "I've been thinking about Reese. I know he's been through a lot, but I'm worried about him. He's been so distant and secretive lately."
Lois sighed, her shoulders slumping. "I know, Malcolm. I don't know what to do with him anymore. He's always up in his room, and I can't shake the feeling that he's hiding something."
Malcolm nodded sympathetically. "I think you're right. And I hate to say it, but I think he might be up to something bad again. Maybe we should keep a closer eye on him, just to be safe."
Lois's eyes narrowed as she looked at Malcolm. "What do you mean?"
"I don't know for sure," Malcolm said, choosing his words carefully. "But I've seen him sneaking around, and he's been really secretive about what he's doing. I just don't want him to get into more trouble, you know?"
Lois's face hardened; her suspicion reignited. "You're right, Malcolm. We can't afford to let him slip through the cracks again. I'll keep a closer watch on him."
Malcolm smiled inwardly, pleased that his plan was working. "Thanks, Mom. I just want to make sure he's okay."
Later that night, Malcolm found Reese in his room, hunched over his sketchbook. He leaned against the doorframe, a smirk playing on his lips. "Hey, Reese. What are you up to?"
Reese looked up, his eyes narrowing. "None of your business, Malcolm."
Malcolm shrugged, feigning innocence. "Just trying to look out for you, bro. Mom's really worried about you, you know. Maybe if you weren't so secretive, she wouldn't be so suspicious."
Reese's jaw clenched, but he said nothing. He knew Malcolm was trying to get under his skin, and he refused to give him the satisfaction.
Malcolm's smirk widened. "Just remember, Reese. Mom's watching you. And so am I."
As Malcolm walked away, Reese felt a surge of frustration. He knew Malcolm was manipulating the situation, but there was little he could do about it. He would have to be even more careful, more secretive, to protect his plans and his future.
The last month of Reese's grounding was dragging on, but he could see the light at the end of the tunnel. He was sitting with his family at the dinner table, trying to endure the usual tension and awkward silence, when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled out the sleek, expensive device, a stark contrast to the family's usual hand-me-downs and outdated gadgets.
"Hello?" Reese answered, his voice calm and collected.
"Reese, it's Robert from Harvard. I've found a lawyer who can help you get your record expunged. He's one of the best and might even work pro bono for you."
Reese's heart leaped with excitement, but he kept his voice steady. "Thank you, Robert. That's fantastic news. I'll make sure to reach out to him soon."
As he stood up and began to walk away from the table to continue the conversation in private, Lois's eyes zeroed in on the phone. "Reese, what is that?" she demanded, her voice sharp.
"It's just a friend, Mom. Leave me alone," Reese replied, trying to keep his cool. "I bought this phone with my own money. I worked for it."
But Lois wasn't having it. She stood up, her chair scraping loudly against the floor. "How could you afford something like that? We're struggling to make ends meet, and you have an expensive phone? Where did you get the money, Reese?"
Reese turned to face her; his expression defiant. "I told you, I worked for it. I saved up. It's none of your business."
The rest of the family watched in stunned silence as the confrontation unfolded. Hal looked bewildered, Malcolm's eyes gleamed with curiosity, and Dewey seemed torn between concern and confusion.
Lois's face turned red with anger. "You expect me to believe that? You've been grounded for months. When did you have time to work and save up for something like that?"
Reese's grip tightened on the phone, but he kept his voice steady. "I made it happen, Mom. I've been working on my own projects, and I earned the money. Why can't you just trust me for once?"
Lois's eyes flashed with a mix of anger and suspicion. "I don't know what you're up to, Reese, but I don't like it. Hand over that phone right now."
Reese shook his head, his jaw set. "No, Mom. This is mine. I'm not giving it to you."
The room fell silent, the tension thick and suffocating. Lois took a deep breath, her eyes narrowing. "Fine. But this isn't over, Reese. I will find out what's going on."
Reese turned and walked out of the room, his heart pounding. He knew he had pushed the boundaries, but he couldn't back down now. He had to protect his future, no matter the cost
Reese was walking home, feeling a rare sense of accomplishment. He was dressed in a white women's blouse, his long blonde hair hanging down to his waist. He wore black women's work pants, flat shoes, makeup, and earrings. His backpack was filled with ten black dresses he had made, and he was accompanied by three female assistants working with him for work experience. They chatted and laughed as they walked, the camaraderie lifting Reese's spirits.
He was on the phone with his lawyer, discussing the next steps for getting his record expunged. "Thank you, Mr. Johnson. I really appreciate your help. I'll send over the documents as soon as I get home."
As they turned a corner, Reese's heart sank. Two police officers he had a very bad history with were standing by their patrol car. The officers' eyes locked onto Reese, their expressions hardening. They approached him, their hands resting on their holsters.
"Reese Wilkinson," one of the officers sneered, his eyes narrowing. "What are you up to now?"
Reese felt a surge of fear but kept his voice steady. "Just walking home, officers. Is there a problem?"
The officer's gaze swept over Reese's outfit, his expensive phone, Rolex watch, and earbuds. "What's in the bag?" he demanded; his tone harsh.
Reese's heart pounded. "Just some dresses I made. I'm taking them home."
The officer grabbed the backpack, yanking it off Reese's shoulder. He unzipped it and pulled out the dresses, his eyes widening with disbelief. "Expensive stuff for a kid from a dirt-poor family. And what's with the women's clothes?"
Reese's assistants stepped back, their faces pale with fear. Reese's lawyer, still on the phone, could hear the commotion. "Reese, what's going on?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.
The second officer grabbed Reese's arm, his grip tight and painful. "Where did you get all this stuff, Reese? You are stealing now?"
Reese winced but kept his composure. "No, sir. I bought it with my own money. I worked hard for it."
The first officer scoffed. "Yeah, right. You're coming with us."
Reese's heart sank as he was roughly pushed towards the patrol car. His assistants watched in horror, unsure of what to do. Reese's lawyer's voice crackled through the phone. "Reese, stay calm. I'll handle this."
As the officers forced Reese into the back of the patrol car, he felt a mix of fear and anger. He had worked so hard to turn his life around, and now it felt like everything was falling apart. But he knew he had to stay strong. He had people who believed in him, and he wasn't going to let these officers break him.
Reese's assistants insisted on accompanying him to the police station, their faces set with determination. The officers grudgingly allowed it, though their expressions were filled with disdain. As they walked into the station, Reese couldn't help but feel a mix of fear and defiance.
"I have enough money to buy your station a hundred times over," Reese said, his voice steady but filled with anger.
The officers laughed, their scepticism evident. "Yeah, right," one of them sneered. "Keep dreaming, kid."
As they led Reese to an interrogation room, the smarmy, arrogant prosecutor swaggered in. His eyes gleamed with satisfaction, and he held a thick stack of papers in his hand. "Well, well, well, Reese Wilkinson," he said, his voice dripping with condescension. "I've been waiting for this day ever since you got out of juvie."
Reese's heart sank as he saw the prosecutor's daughter, who had been caught in the stink bomb prank, standing behind him with a smug expression. The prosecutor slapped the stack of papers onto the table. "Let's see, we've got a whole list of charges here: theft, public indecency, resisting arrest, and that's just the beginning."
Reese's assistants looked horrified, but they stood their ground, refusing to leave his side. The officers and the prosecutor tried to put the screws on Reese, their voices filled with threats and intimidation.
"Just confess," one of the officers said, his tone menacing. "You might get your old cell back."
Reese clenched his fists, his mind racing. He knew they were trying to break him, but he refused to give in. "I didn't do anything wrong," he said firmly. "I'm not confessing to something I didn't do."
At that moment, the door to the interrogation room burst open, and Lois stormed in, her face a mask of fury. "Reese!" she yelled, her voice echoing through the room. "What have you done now?"
The officers and the prosecutor exchanged satisfied glances, clearly enjoying the scene. Lois glared at Reese, her eyes filled with anger and disappointment. "I can't believe you! After everything we've been through, you go and get yourself arrested again?"
Reese's heart ached, but he stood his ground. "Mom, I didn't do anything wrong. They're just trying to pin something on me."
Lois's eyes narrowed, her voice trembling with rage. "I don't know what to believe anymore, Reese. You keep getting into trouble, and I can't keep bailing you out."
The prosecutor smirked, clearly relishing the family drama. "Mrs. Wilkinson, your son is a menace. It's time he faced the consequences of his actions."
Reese's assistants stepped forward; their voices filled with determination. "Reese didn't do anything wrong. We were with him the whole time. This is all a misunderstanding."
The room fell silent, the tension thick and suffocating. Reese's heart pounded as he looked at his mother, hoping for some sign of support. But her face remained hard, her eyes filled with doubt.
Lois's eyes widened in shock as she took in Reese's outfit—his white blouse, long blonde hair, black women's work pants, flat shoes, makeup, and earrings. Her face turned an alarming shade of red, and she exploded.
"What the hell are you wearing, Reese?" she screamed, her voice echoing through the room. "Is this some kind of joke? Are you trying to embarrass me even more?"
Reese felt a surge of anger and defiance. "This is who I am, Mom! Why can't you just accept that?"
The prosecutor smirked, clearly enjoying the spectacle. "Quite the family drama," he said, his voice dripping with condescension.
Before the situation could escalate further, the door to the interrogation room opened, and Reese's lawyer walked in. He was a tall, imposing man with a confident demeanour. "Who the hell are you?" Lois and the cops demanded in unison.
"I'm Reese's lawyer," the man replied calmly, his eyes scanning the room.
Lois's face contorted with fury. "A lawyer? Since when you have a lawyer, Reese?"
Reese's lawyer stepped forward, his voice steady and authoritative. "Mrs. Wilkinson, I need you to step outside. I'll handle this."
Lois looked like she was about to argue, but the lawyer's stern gaze made her think twice. She stormed out of the room, her anger palpable. The lawyer turned his attention to the prosecutor and the officers.
"Now, let's get one thing straight," he said, pulling out a thick folder. "Reese has every right and the means to afford those items. Here's proof of his inheritance."
He laid out the documents on the table, showing the substantial inheritance Reese had received. The officers and the prosecutor's eyes widened as they scanned the papers, their expressions shifting from disbelief to anger.
"This can't be real," one of the officers muttered, his face reddening.
The prosecutor's smirk vanished, replaced by a look of frustration. "So, what if he has money? That doesn't change the fact that he's a troublemaker."
Reese's lawyer raised an eyebrow. "It changes everything. You have no grounds to hold him. All the charges you're trying to pin on him are baseless."
The room fell silent, the tension thick and suffocating. The officers exchanged uneasy glances, clearly unsure of how to proceed. The prosecutor's face twisted with rage, but he knew he was cornered.
"Fine," the prosecutor spat, his voice trembling with anger. "But this isn't over. We'll be watching you, Reese."
Reese's lawyer nodded, his expression calm. "Do what you have to do. But remember, any further harassment will be met with legal action."
As the officers reluctantly released Reese, he felt a surge of relief and gratitude. His lawyer had come through for him, and he was free—at least for now. He turned to his assistants, who had been watching the whole ordeal with wide eyes.
"Thank you for standing by me," Reese said, his voice filled with emotion. "Let's get out of here."
As they walked out of the police station, Reese felt a mix of triumph and determination. He knew the road ahead would be challenging, but he was ready to face it head-on.
